


Saturday at Seven

by hmweasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fluff, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27425512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmweasley/pseuds/hmweasley
Summary: Tonks finds herself enamored with a new member of the Order: Fleur Delacour.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29
Collections: Femslash Exchange 2020





	Saturday at Seven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yrfrndfrnkly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yrfrndfrnkly/gifts).



> Because people sometimes comment on it: Not writing Fleur's accent is a purposeful decision.

The ground floor of Grimmauld Place had quickly become Tonks’ arch nemesis after she joined the Order. Auror or not, she couldn’t be trusted in places where the slightest noise would prompt a portrait to scream bloody murder. Each time Walburga Black’s screams filled the air, Tonks had the passing thought that the woman in question was a great aunt who Tonks had never met. Her own mother had dealt with this woman in the flesh. That wasn’t something Tonks needed to be reminded of. It made her feel far too guilty for what she’d made Andromeda put up with when she was a child.

So, she always maneuvered the hall with the same dedication that she applied to Auror missions. It was the only way to make it out unscathed. Or at least hope to. Just like with her Auror missions, there was never any guarantee of Tonks making it through without causing a ruckus. Her stealth wasn’t what had gotten her through her training.

Aside from the times where Tonks’ body just seemed to do what it wanted of its own volition, there were also just too many things that could distract her from her careful consideration of where to step to avoid catastrophe. And Fleur Delacour was the epitome of a distraction. 

It wasn’t so much her looks. Tonks knew that most of the people who lusted after Fleur would notice those first, and Tonks would have been lying if she claimed not to have noticed. Fleur was, in fact, drop dead gorgeous. She was the sort of person who turned heads when walking down the street. That was a fact, but it wasn’t until Tonks had watched her deliver a perfect rebuttal to Snape during the French woman’s first Order meeting that Tonks had found herself well and truly in the other woman’s thrall. She’d taken down his argument point by point in a way that Tonks could only have dreamed of.

Her newfound interest in the woman had been somewhat disappointing when Tonks had been under the mistaken impression that Fleur and Bill were an item, but a laughing Ginny had informed her not even ten minutes ago that that wasn’t the case. So, when Fleur got up to leave dinner at the same time as Tonks, Tonks found herself behaving like even more of a mess than usual as the potential of something more poked at Tonks’ brain.

Fleur strolled casually at her side, looking like a poster child for ease. She was clearly someone who had never tripped over the notorious umbrella stand and alerted everyone in the house. The confidence with which Fleur carried herself only made Tonks want to know her more, and she found herself paying far less attention to where she was walking than she should have.

They were only a few steps from the door when Tonks finally worked up the courage to blurt out what was nagging at her thoughts.

“I was wondering if you wanted to get drinks together sometime.”

They both knew it was meant to be a date. Fleur looked back at Tonks with a smirk and a glint in her eyes that showed she understood Tonks completely. Tonks breathed a sigh of relief at that. The last thing she needed was another situation where she asked a woman out only for the woman in question not to realize that it was meant to be a date.

Fleur’s smile turned into a flirtatious smirk that left Tonks wide-eyed and tensed as the blonde stepped closer, invading her personal space under the pretense of staying quiet in the hall.

“Something’s changed with you,” she said, her eyes scanning Tonks’ body. “Just last week, I got the distinct impression that you didn’t like me.”

Tonks tried to swallow, but her throat was suddenly dry as a desert. That had been when she’d believed that Fleur was Bill’s girlfriend. It was possible she hadn’t concealed her feelings quite as well as she had wanted to. Something which Ginny had all but confirmed earlier that night, but Tonks refused to admit to Fleur that she’d been jealous. Somehow, she already knew that it would become an ongoing joke.

In a foolish attempt to recover, Tonks took a step backward to put space between them, but she’d forgotten how close to the door they’d gotten while talking. Her foot collided with the infamous umbrella stand, and a second later, both she and the stand were sprawled across the floor. Mrs Black’s portrait erupted with familiar screams, but Tonks forwent her usual cursing as her cheeks burned in embarrassment.

Fleur smirked down at her, but before she could say anything, a surge of people arrived from the basement. Sirius’ own cursing at his mother almost drowned out the portrait’s screams. No one bothered to glance at Fleur or Tonks as they quieted the portrait. Fleur bent down and held out a hand in offering. Tonks took it, trying not to note how soft Fleur’s skin was against her own callused hand.

Once she was standing, Fleur didn’t let go. She used Tonks’ hand to pull her closer and whispered in her ear, “I’d love to get a drink with you. Saturday at 7 o’clock in the Leaky Cauldron?”

A nod was all that Tonks could manage, and Fleur was gone before the others had finished with the portrait, leaving a stunned Tonks staring after her, still processing what had just happened. She’d asked women out before, of course, but none of them had left her feeling quite as dazed as Fleur just had. Perhaps it could have been the fact that she was half-Veela, but Tonks suspected that wasn’t the gaze. No, it was purely the thrall of Fleur Delacour that had her such a mess.

“Oi, Tonks,” Sirius called once the screaming had died down. “This is the twentieth time you’ve knocked over that damn umbrella stand. Surely it couldn’t have been that surprising.”

Tonks shook her head and threw a sheepish smile over her shoulder.

“Sorry,” she said. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

The others just shook their heads in varying degrees of annoyance or amusement. Tonks offered one final wave and disappeared out the door just as Fleur had.


End file.
